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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418905">Anti-Bullying Campaign</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWitchBoy/pseuds/TheWitchBoy'>TheWitchBoy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Everyone Ships Bluepulse: Young Justice Universe [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Blue Beetle (Comics), Smallville, Superboy (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, The Flash - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bullying, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Gotham, Kon is a Good Friend, Kon is lowkey "The Mom Friend", M/M, Matchmaking, Pre-Slash, School Uniforms, Slice of Life, Tim is Tim, Tim ships Bluepulse, Whitney from Smallville, bart is a mess, is there a 'how to tag' how-to somewhere? because I need it., mild matchmaking, rewatching Smallville and S01 Whitney is such trash</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:53:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,782</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWitchBoy/pseuds/TheWitchBoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim's used to the bullies. He's not quite used to having friends show up and intervene, though.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bart Allen/Jaime Reyes (mentioned), Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Everyone Ships Bluepulse: Young Justice Universe [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1841122</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>240</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Anti-Bullying Campaign</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't even know if I actually like this. It seems like all my fic kind of... spirals away from me. But it's always a fluffy spiral? And it seems like ya'll like that, so I suppose I won't hold it against me if ya'll won't.</p><p>Full disclosure: I wrote most of this on my phone, so I'm still finding silly errors. Sorry about that!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tim was pretty good at tuning them out— </p><p>“God, don't you just hate him?” </p><p>“Such a fucking nerd, right? All A's, all the time, no friends, no sports, and I've never seen his family pick him up.” </p><p>“And he's practically always in uniform. Or another suit, like he actually likes it.” </p><p>—but sometimes it got to be a bit much. They didn't try to hide their gossip or anything. If anything, they spoke up, as if trying to get a rise out of him. It hadn't worked yet. But a guy could only take so much before he snapped. Even if they were mostly right. </p><p>Tim was a nerd, sure. He was proud to be a nerd. How else would he have gotten to be such a good detective? And, yeah, he didn't have any school friends and didn't do any sports. And he was practically always in some sort of uniform. He was in the Gotham Academy uniform at school, a proper suit in public, and Red Robin at night. He hardly had time to cultivate a more civilian style. </p><p>But he had friends. </p><p>That was why he was hanging out at the gate, waiting with the gossiping losers, when he would normally be sequestered away in an empty classroom until Alfred arrived. He sighed and checked the time on his phone. </p><p>“Looks like the loser's limo it's late.” </p><p>One of the others in the knot of schoolyard bullies laughed obnoxiously. </p><p>“Hey, look. Watch this.” </p><p>Tim resisted the urge to look up from his phone as the taller boy walked over. He did grip the phone tighter, though. He wasn't exactly in the mood to play helpless. It had been a long ass week. </p><p>“Hey, Loser,” the bully said. And how unoriginal and derivative could they be? </p><p>Tim sighed into his phone. His friends weren't even late yet. Which meant he had to put up with Whitney and his cronies for a bit, after all. “Hello, Whitney.” Here slid his phone in his pocket. It wouldn't due for the protozoa to get any ideas about taking that. </p><p>“Me and my friends were just talking about you.” </p><p>Tim resisted the urge to say something sarcastic back. It wasn't like anyone in the immediate vicinity hadn't heard them talking. Again, the point of their gossip wasn't to make a secret of talking shit about other people, but to get a rise out of them, and a reason to start something. Tim  wasn't about to let them get to him. </p><p>“And I remembered! Drake. You're fucking loaded, right?” </p><p>Tim didn't quite resist the urge to roll his eyes, but Whitney didn't seem to notice. “I guess.” </p><p>“Yeah. So, like, a friendless dweeb like you? You wouldn't mind going along with my pals, yeah? Gotta make some friends, am I right? And in return, I thought maybe you could, like, buy us lunch!” </p><p>“Are you serious?” Tim raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“And actually, it’s not a request or anything. We were taking a look at a new place that opened up downtown, and it's a bit pricey. So, like, you're the perfect answer!” Whitney actually clapped a hand on Tim's shoulder, but managed to make three motion more menacing than it had any right to be. “I mean. You could just hand over your card. A lunch won't kill you, and we'd really appreciate it.” </p><p>Whitney smiled, but the smile fell as soon as Tim shrugged his hand away. “Uh. No thanks.” </p><p>“Look, Drake, you don't want to make me and my friends mad, do you?” </p><p>Tim frowned. “You're serious, aren't you? That's basically extortion, or credit card fraud, depending on which one you’re going with.” </p><p>“Yeah, maybe, but you wouldn't tell.” </p><p>Tim laughed once, in disbelief. It had been such a long week, and he didn't deserve to have to deal with this shit. That was the wrong response, as Tim’s brain only belatedly warned him. Shit. </p><p>Whitney scowled and stepped into Tim's space. “You making fun of me, Drake?” </p><p>Tim made a face, but when he tried to take a step back from the bully, Whitney grabbed him by either lapel. He was already tensing up, to avoid preempting any attacks. To avoid fighting back at all. He had to be as useless as the next spoiled rich kid. Which didn’t stop him from immediately grabbing for Whitney’s wrists. “Whoa, hey—” </p><p>Whitney leaned in threateningly. “Look—” </p><p>“Hey, whoa, back off.” Whitney had barely gotten a hold of Tim when he was jerked back by his collar. Tim released Whitney’s wrists as the bully was hauled forcefully out of his personal space.  “What the hell is going on, here?” Tim's saviour was a bulky, scowling teen with blue eyes and dark hair. </p><p>“What do you care?” Whitney shrugged out of the bigger teen's grip. </p><p>“I wasn’t talking to you,” he gave Whitney his most withering scowl, which faded as he turned his attention away from the bully and over to Tim. “What's going on, here, Tim?” </p><p>Whitney froze. He was dumb, but not that dumb. He had obviously realized that Tim and this new threat knew each other. </p><p>Tim would have almost liked to see what Whitney’s reaction might have been if he knew that this was Superboy. <em> The  </em>Superboy. Whitney would probably have wet himself, knowing he’d offended someone like that. Knowing that the ‘fucking nerd’ with ‘no friends’ was friends with someone like that. The thought was kind of uplifting. Uplifting? Something like that. </p><p>Tim ruffled his hair and shrugged. “Nothing. Hey, Conner. I'm assuming Bart’ll meet up with us later?” </p><p>“Seriously? It looked like these clowns were trying to give you a hard time,” Conner motioned to Whitney and Whitney’s tangentially involved cronies. “And trying to mooch off you? What the fuck? Do you even know them?” </p><p>“Yeah. I mean no. No, not really,” Tim shrugged again. “It's not worth it. Besides, you and Bart mooch off me.” </p><p>“Yeah, sure, but we actually know you. You’re our <em> friend </em>. These dipshits, though...” Conner glared at Whitney. </p><p>“Let it go.” Tim glanced back over at Whitney, who looked positively shellshocked. He barely managed to hide a grin as he turned back to Conner. “It looks like you made your point, anyway.” </p><p>“Whatever. You gonna change before we head off?” He nodded at Tim’s bag. “Or are we stopping somewhere so you can change? You'll stand out like a sore thumb in the uniform. And I'm not willing to let your laziness affect how the rest of us are looked at.” </p><p>“You're so sweet,” Tim deadpanned. As if Conner wore anything but the old shirt-and-jeans combination, Super “S” included more often than not. “But yeah, I've got a change of clothes. Don't worry.” </p><p>A near blur (only going <em> almost  </em>inhumanly fast) suddenly skidded past Tim, Conner, and the group of school bullies. The latter of which were severely startled. Tim and Conner just turned unimpressed gazes to fix on the auburn wreck of limbs and freckles. </p><p>“Huh,” Conner motioned at him. “He's not actually late, for once.” </p><p>“Crash,” Bart grinned over at them. “Right? <em> Right? </em>” </p><p>“Yeah, that was a crash,” Tim grinned. </p><p>“So crash. Family curse of lateness broken!” </p><p>“Do you guys… have other family curses?” </p><p>“Uh, ye-duh,” Bart dusted himself off. </p><p>It looked like he had a significant amount of sand on him, which probably meant he'd cut across a desert. Or had been in El Paso, again. The latter made a lot more sense, given that there weren't any deserts between Rhode Island and New Jersey. And El Paso was further than Rhode Island by a lot. Which meant Bart was actually, statistically speaking, a lot less late than one would immediately think. </p><p>“How's Jaime?” Tim asked. </p><p>Bart scowled. And flushed. </p><p>Tim raised his eyebrows. “Wait, so have you—” </p><p>“No!” Bart threw his arms in the air and waved them around. He looked ridiculous, and it gave Whitney and company the distraction they needed in order to feel safe fleeing from Conner. “Nonono. No. Nope. Nothing happened. Nada!” </p><p>Tim cracked a smile. “That's too bad, <em> hermano </em> <em> , </em>” he teased. Beside him, Conner snorted, but was polite enough to turn it into a cough. “In all seriousness, Bart, I really think you'll be pleasantly surprised. So maybe you should.” </p><p>“Yeah, no,” Bart windmilled a bit, “Ese, that's totally moded and just. No. Not risking it. No can do. Not telling Jaime a thing. I mean. What?” Bart dropped his arms. “Why are you wearing a tie?” </p><p>The redirection was less than subtle, but Tim allowed it. “It’s part of the uniform.” </p><p>“Oh.” Bart nodded slowly. “For, like, school? Why are you still wearing that?” He wrinkled his nose. </p><p>“Don't worry, I'll change,” Tim sighed. Bart had come a long way from the time-displaced kid speedster who didn’t know how not to give away his secret identity. The same time-displaced kid speedster who wore his costume literally anywhere and everywhere. Now, he was judging Tim for wearing his school uniform outside of school. What a joke! </p><p>“Yeah, uh, pretty sure suits aren’t ‘in’ for hanging out ‘n stuff,” Bart said. </p><p>“Thanks, Bart.” </p><p>“The tie—” </p><p>“Thanks, Bart,” Tim repeated, a little louder. “I already told you I’d change.” He threw his hands in the air, but he was smiling. He loosened his tie and pulled it over his head, then tossed it at Bart. “Better?” </p><p>“Not really.” </p><p>“Since when do you know anything about fashion?” </p><p>Bart zoomed forward – too fast for his civilian identity, but when could anyone actually get Bart to behave? besides Jaime, anyway – and stole Tim’s uniform jacket, unbuttoning his top three buttons as an after thought. “Now you don’t have to change!” </p><p>Tim gave Bart his best unimpressed look. It was a pretty good unimpressed look, modelled after the Bat’s own Look. Then he buttoned the third button again. “That much in a hurry, huh?” </p><p>Bart shoved the suit jacket and tie haphazardly in Tim’s semi-abandoned bag. </p><p>“Hey, careful, that’s – that’s expensive.” </p><p>“B can afford it! And it’s fine,” Bart scoffed. “Now let’s jet!” </p><p>“We can’t ‘jet,’ Bart. We’re in civvies. But we can go for a walk, or call a taxi, or take the monorail.” </p><p>Bart frowned. </p><p>Conner ruffled Bart’s hair. “We’ll take a walk. That’s quickest, anyway.” </p><p>“How is walking—oh. Oh! You mean to the—” </p><p>Tim gave him a warning look. “Short walk,” he said, as if agreeing. “Lots of shortcuts.” </p><p>“Right,” Bart offered up a pair of finger guns. “Right! Then the Zetas.” </p><p>Tim didn’t quite resist the facepalm. “Yeah,” he said. </p><p>Conner gave Tim’s shoulder a pat. “Let’s just go. B for attempted subtlety, Bart.” </p><p>“Subtlety? Was I supposed to be subtle?” </p><p>“Make it a C,” Tim said. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Formatting issues? I don't see them yet (pre-posting) but they tend to show up. So... apologies for those.</p><p>Why am I starting a new series? And why is the first part Tim-centric? To the first: Because I have Bluepulse feelings and an inability to focus on one thing at a time. And to the second: Because I didn't plan to start a Bluepulse series, but the idea appeals to me. So here's a Tim-centric Bluepulse-ish piece, lol.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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